


The Hero Complex

by wimblewomble



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'Time travel', Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Auror Harry Potter, Denial of Feelings, Harry Potter has a hero complex, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Lots of magical animals, M/M, Murder, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Parseltongue, Period Typical Attitudes, Political Alliances, Powerful Harry, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Smart Harry, Strong Female Characters, World War II, Young Tom Riddle, harry potter is done with everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimblewomble/pseuds/wimblewomble
Summary: “Are you a hero Harry? Or are you just a selfish bastard who thinks he is one?”“I’d like to think that I’m a person with more questionable morals and motives than your average hero, but hey, each to their own love.”Thrown back in time due to a freak accident with a portkey, Harry Potter seeks salvation and faces a moral dilemma. Finding himself back at Hogwarts as a student again in 1942 was not something he was looking forward to. Mini-Death Eaters, a young Albus Dumbledore still obsessed with Grindelwald, and the birth of Voldemort all at his hands? Great, just great. Harry doesn’t like it, but he’s gone back as a sixteen-year-old and must now bring glory to his name.





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

His life was a mess.

Waking up in a damp cavern filled with god-knows-what is not something Harry Potter ever wanted to experience again. He could feel something prodding him in the arse, his head was pounding and the distant thrums of Hermione and Ron’s voices were vibrating in his head ( _shut up you bastards-_ ) before his body stopped working and he lay in the darkness in resignation. It was wet and cold. Harry huffed out a laugh.

Of fucking course. Only him. Only Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the living, breathing embodiment of bad luck would be in this stupid situation. Only him, the butt end of a universal joke, would be the first person to touch a malfunctioning portkey, and be transported to a fucking cave in the middle of nowhere. He blamed the notorious Potter luck, but he knew it was something else, something to do with Karma or some other form of divine punishment.

What had he done though? Kill Voldemort? Curse Death Eaters? Arrest criminals? Wasn’t that justified? Clearly, it wasn’t. Fate must bloody hate him.

After a while of contemplating his miserable excuse of a life, Harry heaved and scrambled up with all the remaining energy he had, leaning against the wall of the cave for support. He rubbed his eyes after he wiped his hands on his Auror cloak, and blinked blearily when he couldn’t see a thing.

Ah-

Bloody hell.

He fumbled around awkwardly in his cloak pockets for any of his belongings and was relieved to feel the scratchy material of a drawstring bag. Taking the bag out of his robe pocket, he stuck his hand inside the bottomless pouch and felt around for anything useful. His pocket watch, a time turner, a knife, a confiscated wand frayed at the ends, a leather-bound book, a few magical gemstones, a quill, and what seems to be a letter. He wouldn’t know for sure. He had lost his wand, and his magic wasn’t responding to him at all so he couldn’t even use a first-year spell to see in the dark.

“Lumos.” He tried again.

“Arguamenti!”

“Reducto.”

“Bombarda?”

“Shit.”

The spells he was usually capable of doing wandlessly weren’t working, and he couldn’t feel any semblance of the warmth that usually rushed to his toes when he cast one. Harry frowned, scratching his head in confusion and slid down the cave wall in defeat. This was impossible. Oh, how he wished Hermione was here with him.

He stood up and started walking.

The cave was like a never-ending tunnel, no start and no end. What if he had gone deeper into the cave instead heading to the entrance? What if he missed an exit? What if he got attacked by creatures? His pocket knife was by no means a good mode of defence, and his clothes were weighty and clinging to his body, restricting his movement. He was really fucked, wasn’t he?

“Come on Harry,” he whispered to himself, “come on, you can do this. Think of happy thoughts. Think of nice things. Butterflies, rainbows, glitter, squash juice. Think. What can you do?”

A sudden splash startled a yelp out of him and he instinctively reached for the wand that should be strapped to his arm. It wasn’t there, of course, so he staggered forward wildly and starting running. He didn’t know what kind of magical or non-magical creatures were in this cave, so he better be safe than sorry.

‘Running’ in mud is not an easy feat (it felt more like Harry was wading through water), and Harry was doing a pretty crappy job at it. His robes which were not much of a problem before were suddenly a lot heavier, so he had to discard them. A pity, because now he had nothing to protect him from the elements. In his left hand he carried the small drawstring bag in which all of his belongings were in. He hastily stuffed it in his pant pocket and hoped to God it did not fall out.

_‘Two-legs-not-supposed-be-here-go-out-get-out!'_

Startled, Harry panicked and swatted the strange wriggling bodies out of his face, his ears straining to hear the serpentine hissing he had not heard for so long, especially not since the horcrux was remov- **removed!** The Horcrux in his scar had been ripped out when Voldemort had been killed, and he had been unable to understand Parseltongue after the war. Why, how, could he possibly be able to hear it now?

“I’ve gone mad,” he said in astonishment, flinching when a forked tongue brushed across his right cheek.

“Well, this really isn’t what I thought I’d be doing in twenty years when Mrs Weasley asked me about my plans for the future.”

_‘Our-home-cave-ours-trespasser-out-get-out!’_

After ripping an overly excited snake off his leg, he threw his hands up to his forehead, brushing matted hair out of the way and pressing around his hairline for a familiar lightening shaped scar.

“No,” he whispered in horror, his frozen stiff fingers trying to erase the raised skin by rubbing it furiously. To no avail though, because it stayed there as it had for the majority of his life.

Hermione had helped him to get rid of his scar after she became an Unspeakable. And they had succeeded. This could not be his old body. This was not him.

‘ _Standing-there-why-should-move-get-out-cave-is-ours!’_

Annoyed at the jumbled hissing, Harry flung the nearby snakes away in a fit of confusion, his situation feeling direr by the second. Snakes… inside a cave. He was alone in the middle of nowhere, with no wand and somehow he had lost his access to magic. He didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know if he was blind or not, and he was starving and cold. Clenching his teeth, he hissed at the snakes hanging above him in reluctance.

_‘You… can you guys help me?’_

Surprised hisses broke the silence, and a few snakes dropped down heavily and coiled themselves around his body. Harry flinched when they tightened around his limbs and forced himself to not rip them off. They were warm, and that was slightly helping him.

_‘Two-legs is speaker of serpent language! Two legs must be magic-user; the head will be proud if we bring Two-legs to him!’_

Harry remained silent, his erratic breathing the only sound echoing around him, he closed his eyes. So he was in a place where magic existed. Great.

_‘Two-legs speak and we tell secret. Two-legs does not know how to get out. We know. Two-legs speak.’_

What a bunch of demanding little things. Merlin, he had half a mind to curse them if he hadn’t had lost his bloody wand.

 _‘There. Are you happy?’_ He snapped moodily.

Parseltongue was a beautiful language, he couldn’t help but admit. The sibilant words rolled off his tongue as easily as when he was twelve, and he found himself feeling as elevated and excited as when he first spoke the language.

 _‘Enough,’_ a snake said, her voice soft and soothing.

_‘Come with us and you will find your way out.’_

And Harry was taken away to the surface.

-=-

 _‘We are the only ones in this cave,’_ a small voice whispered in his ear.

Harry had been lead to a human-sized tunnel that he was told to crawl through. The snakes had piled in after him, and were wriggling and writhing all around the tiny space. Little heads butted his hands, and drops of water splashed onto his back. Harry breathed in the cold frigid air, and breathed out hope.

_‘Up, and we have arrived.’_

There was a hole in the roof of the tunnel that was emitting a soft warm glow. Harry blinked slowly, his vision blurry as he tried to see through the haze that clouded his vision. He watched in astonishment as the snakes swarming around him climbing over the top of the hole into a den in the earth.

He hauled himself up and sighed in relief when he realised he could see, albeit very blurrily. His glasses were lost after all. Just like his sense of direction and preservation, it would seem.

Great Harry, just shut up Harry.

A snake with eyes the colour of rubies slithered to another that was resting on a rock. Distantly, he could make out the shape of a very long and thick snake conversing quietly with the ruby-eyed snake. After a few moments of furious hissing, the huge snake slithered down from its perch towards him, and stopped at his feet, lifting its upper body so that its head was up to Harry’s waist. In return, Harry crouched slightly, so that he could see its piercing eyes and jet-coloured scales.

 _‘_ _Ocelocoatl_ _just told me of your familiarisation with our tongue, magic-user. You are welcome to leave our cave if you will do us a favour.’_

Hisses of agreement echoed throughout the den in a cacophony of noise. Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his head wearily. He did expect a catch, but he really didn’t want to do anything without his magic. Well, he was completely helpless at the moment either way, and the group of snakes had helped him get somewhere, so he supposed he should accept.

_‘I will do what is within my power.’_

With a bow of its head, the black serpent coiled itself around Harry’s leg and slid up to Harry’s shoulders.

_‘I am Tlahtoacoatl, the leader of these snakes. Our cave is rarely visited, so I am very glad you have arrived with such fortunate timing.’_

A low grumbling noise rose around the occupants of the room, and the snakes descended into chaos. The walls shook and the ground trembled. A mass of snakes dropped down into the hole Harry came from hurriedly, but Tlahtoacoatl whipped his head around to face the fleeing snakes and hissed loudly at their retreating forms.

_‘Calm down! The two-legged one has promised, all will be fine.’_

Shadows from a dim light in the corner of the den crawled up high on the walls as the snakes all gradually trickled back from the hole in the ground. They bashfully made their way back to their original places and murmured quiet apologies. Tlahtoacoatl nodded his head in approval, and spoke into Harry’s ear quietly.

_‘What you felt just then was once our elder, the Wise-one. She is in a constant state of madness after magic-users ventured into our cave and carelessly cast spells left and right. We have tried to restrain her, but she is just too strong.’_

Harry shook the shiver he felt crawl up his spine away. That really did not sound too good. A snake who was insane and powerful enough to cause tremors such as those? How could he possibly be able to face it without his wand or his magic? A list of spells ran through Harry’s head of what could have possibly made the snake go berserk, most of them being borderline illegal, some restricted, which did not bode very well for him. After a while of consideration, he nodded hesitantly and looked into the eyes of Tlahtoacoatl as sincerely as he could.

_‘I will help if you will show me to her.’_

The snakes hissed in elevation. They pooled around him in a pile and clambered over each other to try and climb up him. Tlahtoacoatl rubbed Harry’s cheek gently with his head and wrapped himself around Harry’s wrist. With a swift motion, he bit Harry’s skin and climbed back around Harry’s shoulders. Harry yelped and watched in astonishment as the blood in his arteries glowed golden before turning back to normal.

 _‘What did you do?’_ Harry asked forcefully, agitation clear in his features.

_‘I made you immune to our poisons. Do not worry, it will not harm you since I gave you my venom willingly. Come, follow Ocelocoatl and Piptoncoatl, they will take you to the Wise-one.’_

Harry followed the two snakes obediently, Tlahtoacoatl’s words ringing in his ears. The snake in question was draped across Harry’s shoulders, awfully calm in spite of the apparent danger Harry would be going through. It didn’t seem like the other snakes wanted to help either, with how Ocelocoatl and Piptoncoatl slithered away faster than he had ever seen snakes slither before.

Tlahtoacoatl gestured to the opening in the wall with his tail and unwound himself from Harry’s body. He fell to the ground gracefully and flickered his tongue in warning.

_‘Be careful two-legger, for the Wise-one is not forgiving of those who disturb her rest. You can try to talk to her, I suppose, but I doubt that will work. If you succeed, you have me and my clan member’s loyalty and gratefulness, if you do not, well.’_

Harry looked at Tlahtoacoatl incredulously, a tirage of questions at the tip of his tongue. Was he supposed to keep her alive? How did he expect Harry to talk to the Wise-one when they have obviously failed? Sighing heavily, Harry scratched at the nape of his neck and brushed off any of his worries with a shake of his head. Do or die, it did not matter anymore, he might as well attempt to help the snakes.

It seemed like forever before Tlahtoacoatl bid him good luck and left silently through a crack in the ground. Harry stood still for a moment, before realising that there were glowing orbs of light lining the slimy cave walls. Hey! He could just go right now since he had a light source, and there were no snakes watching him anymore, maybe he could-

The orbs dimmed and then went out entirely. Well, so much for that idea. Squaring his shoulders and clenching onto his drawstring bag tightly, Harry brushed away the vines draped over the small opening and squeezed his way through to the other side.

-=-

Holy shit.

Harry stared in awe at the giant thing of a snake in front of him. She was just a little bit smaller than the basilisk he fought in second-year, and appeared to be resting peacefully on its giant rock. Not wanting to awaken her just yet without the proper equipment, Harry quietly knelt down and spilt the contents of his pouch out onto the slightly moist ground. He rifled through the items and gasped when he found his time turner. Though on further inspection, the hourglass had shattered and all the grains of sand had fallen out.

There was a reason why time-turners were so expensive and hard to source. They were extremely useful, but dangerous, as they were fragile and shattered easily despite various protective charms, which is what appears to have happened here. This particular time turner had been gifted to him by Theodore Knott, who had managed to design a new one that was what he called a ‘true’ time turner, because of its ability to take a person to any time period, for any amount of time. Theodore had originally made it so that he and Draco could go back in time to save Voldemort, but after much consideration, they decided to leave it be and never speak of it again.

Except Harry had made friends during his internship as an Auror with Draco, and through association, Theodore. After a few years, they caved and spilt about the time turner to Harry, who accepted it and promised to take care of it.

_What would they say now!_

Harry knew he had to find a way to fix the time turner or make a new one. This accident with him appearing in a cave must be linked to it, and Harry did not know the full repercussions of a blunder such as this. Distraught, Harry placed the time turner back into the pouch and the rest of his trinkets as well. What was left was his pocket knife and the ratty old wand that looked as if it would break any moment. Not useful at all, but it would have to do.

Steeling himself, Harry spared another glance at the serpent and pocketed his pouch once again.

Apart from her size, the huge serpent had the most exquisite scales as well. They were a pearly white, and had a glossy sheen to it, like oil on water. Occasionally, when the serpent shifted, the light would catch on the scales and blind Harry for a moment.  

“In all my years as an Auror,” he muttered underneath his breath, resigned. With cautious steps, he approached the resting snake’s head, knees shaking with anticipation and palms furiously sweating.

 _‘Oh Wise-one, please awaken so I may speak to you,’_ Harry called out.

The huge beast stirred, and Harry felt the very foundations of the ground shake as she sluggishly twisted her body to face him. Two huge yellow eyes stared Harry in the face dauntingly, and sharp fangs dripping with venom beared at him in aggression and irritation.

 _‘You dare,’_ she hissed menacingly, _‘you dare disturb the Wise-one’s rest?!’_

With a great heave, she lunged at Harry and opened her gaping mouth, preparing to swallow Harry whole. Shouting in surprise, Harry was barely able to evade the attack by rolling on the ground to his left. The Wise-one fell down with a loud thud, but recovered quickly and chased Harry around the edge of the enclosure.

_Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks! Come on magic, answer to me, hurry up, hurry up!_

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to summon his magic from his core. It was barely there, but Harry could feel it pulsing slightly in his chest. Closing his eyes for a second, and concentrating really hard, Harry waved the ratty old wand and sent what he hoped was a strong petrifying spell towards the snake. There was a loud hiss, and Harry yelped when the Wise-one became even more enraged. He scrambled onto a nearby rock and thought of a quick plan while taking a breather.

After the Wise-one spotted him crouching on a rock, she charged at him front on and threw her tail at him with great force. Dust and rocks rained down from the missed blow, and Harry, when he saw his opportunity, leapt onto the serpent’s head with a great roar.

_‘Listen to me!’_

He hissed loudly to the serpent while clinging to her huge head.

_‘Listen now!’_

The snake reared her head and slammed her own body onto the ground, attempting to throw Harry off of her body. She writhed and twisted, hissing in aggravation and disgust. Harry swore, and frowned in thought while desperately trying not to fall off. What could he do? His magic only reacted especially strongly when he was in dangerous situations, so he could-

That was it! Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Harry pushed himself off the snake’s head and watched in horror as the ground came closer and closer to his face.

_Come on, come on!_

Just when the air whistling in his ear was about to stop, Harry finally found his magic and tugged hard at the constraints surrounding it. The all too familiar feeling of tingling warmth made it back into his fingertips, and letting out a chuckle of relief, Harry fell to the ground with a loud crack. Getting back up quickly, Harry groaned in pain and hurriedly shot a couple of binding spells and a couple of proper petrifying spells. He also sent a silencing spell just for good measure. The ratty old wand seemed like it accepted him as its wielder for now, which was great. All in all, a good trade-off for a broken ankle and an aching back.

Harry watched in satisfaction as the Wise-one finally stopped thrashing about and slumped onto the ground, boneless. He limped around to one of the giant eyes and smirked in triumph when he saw the anger flit through them briefly. He patted the snake lightly on her snout and hissed at it softly.

_‘You are hurting your clan members. They are living in fear and are hoping you will come to your senses. Speak to me, but do so in a fitting manner. Do not forget that you are at my mercy as of now.’_

Harry cancelled the silencing spell with a wave and scowled when the giant snake glared at him furiously.

_‘YOU. KILL YOU. HURT YOU, INSOLENT HUMAN. INSIGNIFICANT, STUPID-’_

And… he stopped listening. Through the angry ramblings, Harry observed the restrained movement of the snake’s jaws and the pained expressions that briefly flew across the large serpent’s face with fascination. Something must be wrong with her mouth. Perhaps one of her lower teeth? Or maybe her tongue. He sighed and asked the serpent to open her mouth reluctantly, for he really did not to hear her talking again.

 _‘Why? You can’t make me. Stupid human.’_ She hissed snidely.

Harry rolled his eyes and cursed her inside his head for her bitchiness. With a wave of the ratty wand and a whispered _‘aberto’_ , he forced her giant, _fat_ mouth to open.

“Fucking hell, no wonder you are such a bitch, with a wound like this.”

Harry stared at the gaping hole in one of the snake’s broken teeth and winced at the pained wail when Harry poked at it insensitively with the tip of his wand. He huffed an apology under his breath and tapped on the broken tooth, murmuring a quick healing spell.

There was a pregnant silence in the air after Harry patched up the Wise-one’s tooth.

_‘…Sorry.’_

Harry snorted into his hand and patted the snake reassuringly. He followed her as she slithered her way to her rock, and sat down beside her when she curled up contently under the glowing lights of the cave.

_‘Thank-you, human. I apologise for trying to kill you.’_

_‘Just don’t try it again,’_ Harry spared a cold glance at one of the Wise-one’s giant eyes.

The Wise-one bowed her head in apology and flicked her tongue out to taste the air around Harry. She opened and shut her jaw a few times to test out the fixed tooth, and was satisfied when it didn’t hurt any longer.

_‘I won’t.’_

_‘What caused your wound?’_ Harry asked after she had calmed down a bit.

_‘Wand-wielders. They came into my cave and tried to kill me. They feared me too much though, so they ran away half-finished. One of them shot a spell at my fangs and blasted a hole into it. This wound has pained me since.'_

Ah, of course. Probably some naïve adventurers discovered the resting place of the Wise-one and wanted their minute of fame. He had to deal with some of these disillusioned people before, barely adults who thought they were more skilled than they actually were. Of course, that did not excuse their barbaric actions. It was a pity there were no laws about these sort of things, otherwise, none of this would have happened.

_‘Then I will have to apologise on their behalf. If you would like I could throw some wards up around the cave for you?’_

_‘No, wards do not work well with our clan’s magic.’_

The Wise-one looked at Harry from the corner of her eye.

_‘You are very considerate for a human.’_

Harry smiled.

_‘You are not such a bad snake yourself.’_

And the two proceeded to exchange conversation until a very timid looking snake peeked their head into the enclosure from the veiled entrance.

 _‘Wise-one? Are you well again? Leader and I came down because we heard the shaking stop.’_ A small female voice asked.

_‘Yes, I am well. Thanks to Har-ri here.’_

The forest green snake practically flew towards the huge white serpent; she lay down by her side while the Wise-one practically preened under the admiring looks and exclamations from the tiny snake. Harry chuckled at their antics but looked up when he heard the baritone hissing of Tlahtoacoatl travel through the air.

_‘Speaker, you have my gratefulness for returning the Wise-one into her own self. If I may ask, what was the problem?’_

The Wise-one nudged at Harry with her huge head, so he stood up and made his way to Tlahtoacoatl.

_‘Her tooth. It was hurt.’_

Tlahtoacoatl nodded at the answer and climbed onto Harry. He finally looked at the Wise-one and exchanged greetings. The two snakes chatted for a few minutes while Harry and the small green snake held a small conversation. Harry learned that the forest green snake used to be the carer of the Wise-one, and was very skilled at catching butterflies without hurting them. She was a pleasant little snake, and Harry thought he wouldn’t have minded talking to her a bit more.

In the end, the Wise-one thanked Harry for his help and gave one of her scales and a few drops of venom that he bottled up in one of his vials as a gift. She also asked him to place his palm in the middle of her eyes, and when he did, an elaborate symbol appeared on his hand.

He examined the elegant lines of glowing white while the Wise-one gave her final farewells.

_‘You are welcome to visit anytime you wish Har-ri. The stamp on your palm shows my protection over you. I wish you the best of luck. Please come talk to me again.’_

Harry smiled at the huge serpent and gave her a final pet before he was lead out by Tlahtoacoatl while the little green snake stayed with the Wise-one. Harry slumped in relief after they left the enclosure, and thanked the gods above for his good fortune.

Tlahtoacoatl took him once again to the den and slid off his shoulders when the other snakes swarmed around him with words of thanks and praise on their tongues. Harry stroked a few before he broke free from the mass of snakes and headed towards the door that suddenly appeared in one of the cave walls.

 _‘Har-ri,’_ Tlahtoacoatl began, _‘we have decided that one of us shall accompany you on your ventures so that you will always be able to come back to us.’_

A jet black snake similar in size to Tlahtoacoatl slithered forward, and climbed onto Harry’s offered arm. They draped their body over Harry’s shoulders and nudged his cheek gently.

_‘This is Yaocoatl. He is my brother. He has agreed to go with you. Please take good care of him.’_

Yaocoatl hissed softly at Harry and bumped Harry’s palm with his head. Harry chuckled and stroked Yaocoatl lightly.

_‘'I thank you for your consideration.'_

_'See you then, Har-ri. Brother will now take you to the surface. Remember that we are forever indebted to you.’_

With a final wave from Harry, Yaocoatl dropped down from Harry’s shoulders and took him through the door.

-=-

Stumbling out of the cave into the sunlight greatly dis-oriented Harry and Yaocoatl. The two quickly made their way to the shade of a nearby tree, and rested underneath. They sat there for a while in a comfortable silence, observing the surrounding nature contently, before two stomachs growled loudly, and with a groan, Harry realised how hungry he and Yaocoatl were.

_‘Har-ri, I will get food for you.’_

Yaocoatl was a great snake. In the ten minutes Harry had talked with him, he had displayed all the qualities of a good subordinate in any Auror division. Loyal, smart, obedient, helpful, and a good conversationalist.

_‘It’s fine Yao, I hear someone heading this way anyway. Come hide in my shirt.’_

The long snake curled himself around Harry’s waist, but his dress shirt was baggy enough to hide the bulking shape. Harry rested on the tree trunk and closed his eyes, calming his breathing and faking sleep.

The loud crunching of leaves got closer and closer, until it stopped altogether and Harry could feel a hulking figure tower over him. A booming voice with a heavy Scottish accent reverberated in his ear, and Harry pretended to be startled awake. He sucked in a breath when he saw a pair of worn dragon hide boots on two huge feet.

“Aye, what do we have ‘ere?”

Harry looked up and up until he was face to face with warm hazel brown eyes. He scrambled up from his spot on the ground, and quickly put some distance between him and the massive man.

“It’s okay lad, ain’t no one gonna hurt ya.”

Harry looked around the forest with confusion and back at the robed figure. He scanned his surroundings for a bit, before he peered up through his fringe at the man, and started speaking in a slightly hoarse voice.

“Sir, where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here?”

The man tutted, and approached Harry carefully with his hands in the air in a show of trust in order to make Harry feel comfortable around his presence. It was honestly a bit like he was trying to tame a wild animal.

“You’re at Hogwarts, me name’s Ogg, and I dunno what you’re doing ‘ere in the Forbidden Forest.”

Ogg? Harry searched his brain for any recognition of the name, and ding ding, there was. Hadn’t the Weasley Matriarch mentioned that there was a gamekeeper in Hogwarts by that name when she had attended? Holy shit, Harry stared in horror at the well-kept man with a basket of herbs in his arm, and nearly fainted if it wasn’t for Yao hissing words of comfort to Harry.

“Ogg?” He managed to choke out, green eyes wide and surprised.

“Yea, do I know you from somewhere?”

Harry slumped to the ground in shock and buried his head in his arms. Ogg hurried to his side and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Look lad, yer look famished. Let me take you Hogwarts and we can get you some grub and a hot drink eh? The ‘eadmaster will be able to sort things out.”

Harry groaned and shook his head, a mass of dirty curls falling into his face.

“Sorry, Ogg. I don’t think I can stand up.”

Yelping, Harry grabbed onto Ogg’s shirt in surprise. He had been hauled onto the tall man’s shoulders. The sudden movement alarmed Yao, and he hissed in annoyance as he wrapped himself tighter around Harry’s waist.

“Don’ worry, I’ll take you there safely. Rest youngin.”

Harry watched through heavy eyelids as Ogg headed back to the same hut Hagrid had lived in. Ogg placed the basket of herbs down on a table, before covering Harry in a coat and exiting his hut. He locked the door and started the familiar trek of going up to the castle.

By now Harry’s brain had gone into overdrive. The cave, his hunger, and a realisation that he really didn’t want to acknowledge was really fucking with him.

The last thing he saw was the magnificent stone walls of his old school, and the last thing he felt was the nostalgic warmth of Hogwarts’ magic enveloping him in warmth before he fell asleep to the comforting hisses of Yao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. This is my first time writing on any platform. If you can review and leave a kudo it would be much appreciated.


	2. Strange Circumstances

Bargok knew something was wrong.

Outside the door, it was dank and dark. The smell of moss and cool water enveloped him in a calming lull, and he sighed in contentment when tiny blue lights flickered around him teasingly. It was a quiet place, a treasured place.

The Noise Room.

The name was rather self-explanatory in its nature. The Noise Room was the loudest and most rambunctious room in the underground goblin city, but on rare occasions where all quietened down, it was the most peaceful. And Bargok was the keeper. No one could go inside, not even the goblin king, so really, he was useless. It seemed he was put there for the sake of it and nothing else. It was a good job though, as he got paid handsomely and he had recently attained a lot of free time in his hands. His had even begun learning how to fight with short swords.

But something had gone wrong since yesterday. The Noise Room that would usually return to normal after a few hours had been silent and sullen from yesterday's sunrise. It was disconcerting, and while a nice change for Bargok, it was a bad omen.

For everything in the city operated because of the Noise Room. The workers, the miners, the duellers and even the shopkeepers would become sluggish and lethargic if the Noise Room did not make noise. It was an unexplained phenomenon, and will probably remain as such for generations to come. The room had existed since Gringott himself after all, and yet nobody has been able to open it, or figure out its true nature.

The news of the Noise Room's inaction had caused much outrage and excessive behaviour amongst the general goblin population. Already, hundreds of his kind had fallen into a deep slumber. Families were panicking, and workers were refusing to do their jobs. The situation was starting to get out of hand. Even now, the King has not done anything useful to remedy the current crisis.

A few guards that were sent by the King came over and checked in the morning, but they did not find anything broken or tampered with. They could only guess that the contents of the Noise Room had stopped making noise, which was something any daft goblin could figure out. Like his job, Bargok wondered if the guards were really needed.

He would never say that out loud. The King would have him killed in a second.

Bargok brushed some of the damp moss off the stone wall he was leaning on. He rested for a few more minutes, before taking out his rags and brushes from his bucket and carefully starting the meticulous and tedious process of cleaning the golden door from any soot or dust. Not that there was much to clean. Goblin gold never dented and always shined, so there was no use polishing or wiping the engraved doors. Sure there may be some odd bits and specks of dirt, but did that really warrant a daily cleaning session?

He huffed in exasperation. After a few more sharp wipes, he threw the rag back into the bucket and plopped onto his wooden chair. Good grief, it seems like his endurance was just not the same. Even if he was over fifty summers, such a thing like cleaning a door should not tire him so much should it?

He yawned. Oh well. As long as the door remained closed and he was still the keeper, there would be no need for any change in his schedule or plans. He was perfectly content with being here, and he would rather keel over and die than give up his job.

As Bargok drifted off to sleep, he indistinctly heard the beginnings of quiet murmurs coming from the Noise Room. The ground trembled slightly, and a high pitched whistling was heard. 

It was time.

-=-

“Bonjour Lord Potter, it’s my pleasure to meet you.”

Harry smiled amiably. He shook the offered hand firmly, and shrewdly observed the house crest on the man’s ring. Ah, the Beauvilles. An influential wizarding family that was deeply involved in politics, especially those of the foreign nature. The man standing before him must be the representative of the French Ministry that was sent to escort him. He was tall, taller than Harry that's for sure. He had ad distinct air of aristocracy and excessive wealth and had stormy grey eyes that stood out on his gaunt face.

“Bonjour, Lord Beauville. Tout le plaisir est pour moi. Merci d’être venu.”

 _The pleasure’s mine. Thank you for meeting me_. He had learnt the basic greetings from Blaise in hopes of getting into the good graces of the people he would be associating with in his short stay at Marseille. It had been a smooth sailing venture so far, and it was all thanks to his multi-lingual Italian colleague. Without the man, he would no doubt be lost and without a place to stay. Translating spells were ridiculously hard to apply for a reason. Languages are not meant to be learnt so quickly or conveniently.

“Tu parles français?” The blonde-haired man said. He looked surprised, but there was a slight upwards quirk to his lips.

Score. A potential ally. Harry wracked his brain for an answer. What had Blaise told him to say?

“Juste un petit peu,” he responded after a while of consideration. The regal-looking man narrowed his eyes at him for a second before straightening and sending an appraising look his way.

 _Just a little bit._ The Lord seemed impressed and regarded Harry in a much more welcoming manner after that.

“Come then, Lord Potter, I will take you to the Minister now. We have much to discuss.”

He held offered an arm to Harry. Harry gladly took it, albeit a bit awkwardly. With a crack, they disappeared from the bustling city square and landed in front of a polished marble fountain. The water was slightly tinged with crimson. Harry frowned. Was he forgetting something?

Lord Beauville led him to the entrance of a huge building and let Harry take in his surroundings for a while. As he looked around, a stone fell into the pit of his stomach and Harry suddenly felt very uneasy. The hair on his neck and arms stood up, and a tingly sensation was felt on his forehead.

He glanced up and jumped back in fright at the two gargoyles sneering at him from above. Water from the recent rain ran down their face. Like tears. They looked more and more similar to tormented souls the longer Harry stared at them. Uncomfortable, he glanced away. This wasn't a very welcoming way to greet him. He had been expecting pretty girls and quaint decorations.

Lord Beauville then led Harry past an empty reception desk, up to a set of winding stairs, and through multiple corridors until they reached a door. There were no guards. Nor were there any ministry workers milling around. The silence was stifling, it wasn't normal, it felt unnatural. Harry scowled in annoyance. There as a niggling sensation at the back of his head, and he hated it.

Lord Beauville glanced at him from the corner of his eyes before smiling and gesturing to the door. Strange, when did Lord Beauville have red eyes?

Nonetheless, Harry knocked politely three times on the wooden door. There was a muffled shout and a loud thud before a portly man who looked to be in his fifties opened the door and cordially took Harry's hand in his. There was a sharp grin on his face. His hair was streaked with blinding scarlet tones. A fashion statement perhaps?

“Ah, welcome! Head Auror Potter, it is my honour to invite you to our city. Is it not magnificent?”

Harry nodded in acquiescence. Marseille was quite a beautiful place. It was a pity he was here for work and not for pleasure.

“Magnificent indeed. Thank you for your hospitality, Monsieur Dorian.”

The man’s handle-bar moustache bristled with pride, his cheeks turning redder by the second. Lord Beauville looked to be hiding his amusement behind an impassive face as Harry grinned roguishly at the embarrassed and spluttering man standing in front of him.

“W-well, Marius, please take out the portkey.” Dorian turned to Harry, “Lord Potter, this portkey will take us to the actual Ministry. This building is just a precaution of course. Would you like to go first? Just say ‘Marseille’ and it activates.”

A heavy stone once again settled into the pit of Harry’s stomach. Something didn’t seem right with the seemingly innocent silver pocket-watch that had been placed on the mahogany table. It glinted ominously in the light, and as Harry made a move to touch it, a loud piercing scream was emitted.

"Shit!" Harry clutched his head in pain.

He stared at the watch. It seemed to glare back. An antagonistic pocket watch? Was the French Minister trying to insult him?

“-ke up!”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. What? Who the fuck was yelling? It certainly wasn’t anyone in the room, Lord Beauville was staring out the window and Minister Dorian was checking a document on the table. Neither of them had been speaking.

“-ake up!”

He swivelled around to the direction of the noise and recoiled when he saw a pool of blood leaking through the door. Turning around to warn the Minister and Lord Beauville to evacuate, he was met with tense silence.  There was only a time-turner that sat innocently on the table top. He swallowed down a lump in his throat.

Harry strode over to the table and made a grab for the hourglass-like device. As soon as it touched his fingers though, it broke, and thousands of golden grains spilt out all around him. The sand kept on coming out in a never-ending stream, and Harry's vision was consumed with red. Red like blood. Red like Voldemort's eyes. Red like charred flesh and red like anger.

What the actual-

“Wake up!”

Harry bolted up with a yell, his heart racing in his ribcage. He frantically scrambled up but found himself tumbling onto the ground in a tangle of sweaty limbs and linen bedsheets. A hand pawed at the clothing covering his chest. It was practically suffocating him. He wheezed.

“It’s okay dear. It was just a dream.” A woman’s voice said soothingly into his ear.

Someone was stroking his messy hair, and someone else was helping him up from the floor. Suddenly, his limbs seemed so much heavier and his head felt like it was about to split into two. Infuriating. This weakness was infuriating.

“Where ‘m I?” He slurred out.

Harry rubbed his eyes sluggishly and blinked blearily at the figure standing over him. He watched dazedly as she bandaged his ankle, and nearly choked when a deep purple potion was shoved down his throat. He gagged at the disgusting taste and covered his mouth with a hand. Fuck. Why?

“You’re at Hogwarts young man. I wonder what your parents will say when we tell them that you were running about in the Forbidden Forest and doing God knows what. Unbelievable!”

“My parents are dead,” Harry murmured through the remaining haziness in his head.

Through the corner of his eyes, he could see an auburn haired man with the strangest robes he had ever seen standing next to an old man wearing golden spectacles. He turned away from them with a groan and threw an arm over his face. It was too bright, his already blurry eyesight was becoming worse.

Bloody hell, what did that nightmare mean?

He _was_ in Marseille. He had met Lord Beauville. He had gone to the French Ministry. He had taken the portkey, which was broken and the cause of this horrible situation in the first place. Where did the blood come from though? When had the watch turned into a time turner? Was this some sort of premonition?

He stared at the roof of the room he was in, confusion and delirium clouding his thoughts. The veil that was muddling his thoughts slowly lifted after a few seconds though, and he felt his heart beat finally settle into a familiar rhythm.

He breathed in.

That was right. Yesterday he had been stuck in a cave. Yao had shown him out. He met this man who claimed he was called Ogg and was carried by him to Hogwarts. He had woken up in this hard and uncomfortable bed, and was looking at a barely recognisable ceiling with the hospital wing's off-white paint. A woman had helped calm him down, and someone else had lifted him onto the bed. He had seen a person that looked suspiciously like a young Dumbledore, and someone else who bared a great resemblance to Headmaster Dippet's portrait.

Harry ran a tired hand down his face. He had hoped he would wake up to Hermione’s annoying screeching and Ron's loud complaints, but it seems like he would have to deal with this unknown set of circumstances sooner rather than later. Laughable, how he thought this was all a dream. Yesterday was very real, after all.

"Are you alright now?"

Harry turned to look at the source of the voice and snorted under his breath when he saw a lady that looked like a combination of Neville's Grandmother and Mrs Figg. She had watery blue eyes that were looking at him disapprovingly, and greying blonde locks that shined in the dappled light let through by the curtains.

"Yes," he said before she could open her mouth. God, her voice was already irritating and she hadn't spoken more than a few sentences!

"Well then. What is your name?"

There was an impatient pause. Harry tilted his head in thought and scanned the room leisurely. It really was the hospital wing. Perhaps Madame Promfrey was just replaced, and he wasn't in some other time or alternate dimension like he thought he was?

Optimistic. How hopeful of him.

Well, while he was on the subject of names, what name should he give? There was Tim Arnold, a muggle carpenter and Edison Amery, an enchanter. Bob Burns, Dave Harren, Jason Pearce. He had many aliases, but none of them was of any use right now. He closed his eyes. This would have to be a gamble.

"Harry Potter."

The woman's eyebrows rose in surprise. She exchanged looks with the two men standing beside his bed. There was no sign of recognition in any of them. Strange. Maybe there were no Potters in this… place. Was it a mistake giving them his real name?

"Armando, there are no Potters enrolled currently. Charlus and Fleamont graduated a few years ago."

A puzzled look crossed the bespectacled man. So it really was Armando Dippet, the headmaster of Hogwarts before Dumbledore. This confirmed his first theory then. He was in the past. This was a little hard to accept.

He swallowed when Dippet peered at him with his sharp, cutting brown eyes.

Actually no, it was very hard.

"Child, you are not a student of Hogwarts are you?"

Harry nodded. He hadn't been one for more than a decade. And he didn't want to be one again, no matter how fond he was of the old castle.

"I woke up in the forest. Then a man who said he was called Ogg took me."

The auburn-haired man frowned in suspicion. It was understandable, he had appeared out of nowhere in a warded area that should not have been accessible via any mode of transportation. The question was, how the hell was he going to explain any of this?

"Where were you before you awoke?" The man asked.

"In a cave," Harry answered. Best to be honest.

"And before that?"

This should be where his lying skills will come into play. He simply did not know enough about his current predicament to say anything substantial. He would need to feign ignorance, for now, for he could be easily called out for any lies or bluffs. It was a simple solution, really. All he had to do was pretend to not remember anything. Easy as pie. (He spoke too soon.)

"I don't know." He scrunched his face up in effort.

Harry carefully selected his next words, keeping his face in a mask of disorientation.

"I was in a cave and I was lost for hours, I think. Then I got out. That's all I remember," Harry scrunched his face up in question, "what's a Hogwarts?"

The two men looked at him with varying degrees of curiosity.  

"Albus," Dippet said, "it seems we have a very unusual case on our hands."

Harry clenched his hands into fists under the bed sheets. He forced himself to meet the twinkling gaze of Dumbledore and suppressed his desire to reach out and touch him in wonder. Immediately after he met twinkling blue eyes, there was the sensation of another mind brushing against his mental walls. _So quick to pull out the big guns eh?_ He thought with bitter amusement.

Choosing to indulge the man, he pulled out a few memories of the cave and the forest, making sure to be selective and not reveal his ability to speak Parseltongue or any of the snakes. He kept the rest of his mind blank, like a fresh canvas. It would seem like he was obliviated to anyone except for himself.

"He appears to be telling the truth, Armando."

Dumbledore did not stop looking into Harry's eyes. There was a faint expression of approval before a blinding smile broke out on Dumbledore's face. Harry squinted at the man in distrust. What was the old bastard up to?

"Well then, shall we keep him here until we figure out something else?"

Headmaster Dippet stroked his beard in thought, though he looked amused and relieved at Dumbledore's easy acceptance.

"Very well. There are spare rooms in Herbert's quarters. Perhaps we shall put them to use again."

Dippet turned to Harry and patted him on the back reassuringly. The sharp assessing eyes turned warm, and his thin lips twitched upwards.

"Don't worry Harry, we'll take care of you. My name is Armando Dippet, and this is Albus Dumbledore. We are educators at Hogwarts, the best wizarding school in all of Europe. I hope you enjoy your stay."

Harry blinked. Well, that had been a little too easy. He was surprised they hadn't questioned him a bit more. Better not look a gift horse in the mouth right? He'll go with the flow.

He leaned back into the pillows and smiled discreetly when he felt Yao curl around his arm.

He'll figure everything out with time. It was a promise.

-=-

"How can you be so sure he's telling the truth, Albus?"

Armando watched as his employees fought over Harry Potter's placement at Hogwarts. It was interesting, a refreshing change. There hadn't been this much stimulating discussion amongst the staff since the incidents surrounding Grindelwald's attacks.

"Now, now, Bathsheda, I can tell he has a good character. If you met him in person you would know."

Albus' eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of the staff meeting room with otherworldly knowledge. Bathsheda narrowed her eyes and harrumphed at him in anger. She raised a lecturing finger and pointed at the badly dressed transfiguration professor with a flourish.

"Albus, you are too trusting for your own good! What if he is a spy sent by the Dark Lord? Have you not forgotten about our duties as teachers?!"

Cuthbert cleared his throat and shared a glance with Galatea. They watched in glee as Albus got taken down a peg from Bathsheda's intense ranting. The man had always seemed to be a step above them, but seeing his smile fall off his face was an elevating experience.

"Bethsheda dear, has Albus' judgement ever been wrong before? Harry is but a child, and we are adults. We should be able to handle him, shouldn't we?"

"Binns," Bathsheda seethed in response, "has old age muddled your brain? What are appearances against skill? Age is but a number, you teach History, you should know."

Cuthbert glared at the Ancient Runes Professor in return. Bathsheda had crossed the line. A boy was a boy; she did not seem to understand that.

"Bathsheda. Cuthbert. Stop your senseless bickering. I think this matter with Harry Potter shall be resolved after we keep him under close watch and draw our conclusions from his behaviour. He may be a spy, he may be a child, but right now, he is my ward, and will stay as such until he moves out of my quarters. This discussion is over, and I will tell you of any developments in our situation surrounding Harry if need be."

Herbert frowned sternly at the two childish adults. He had met Harry very briefly a few minutes ago, and he was a sweet lad, if a little bit eccentric. He had no doubts he wasn’t a spy, but it did seem like he was hiding something from all the adults. Their conversation had been intriguing and enlightening though. It was accurate to say that he may have met a Ravenclaw in the making. He looked forward to teaching him.

"I will know if he is lying. He is in safe hands." He added as an afterthought.

Albus looked positively ecstatic. Cuthbert was pensively shuffling his parchment papers, and Bathsheda looked about ready to blow a fuse.

"What do you think, Horace?" Dippet asked, trying to diffuse the situation.

The potions professor gazed through steepled fingers at the occupants of the table. He leaned back in his seat and sighed through his nose.

"I agree with Herbert. We cannot be sure of anything right now. Patience is a virtue, after all, and I believe time will solve this problem. While Albus is good at judging character, and Bathsheda raised valid points, for now, all we can do is provide an unfortunate child with a place to stay."

The rest of the teachers hummed in agreement.

"It is rather pitiful, isn't it? I hope he will regain his memories. He must be frightened, that poor thing." Galatea said sympathetically.

Herbert nodded in assent. He would have to do his best to provide for Harry. A trip to Diagon Alley for provisions was due. Perhaps even an inheritance test at the Gringotts would be needed. They’ll need to know if he was in any way related to the Potters.

"Is he of magical descent?" Cuthbert asked.

"Of course," Dippet replied.

"He would have to be if he managed to breach the wards," Bathsheda continued, with no small amount of disapproval on her face. She relented though, and carried on to report the state of the castle wards, a heavy scowl still marring her young face.

Dippet smiled in contentment. What an interesting way to begin a new school year.

-=-

It was dinner time. Harry sat in between the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, who he had been introduced to as Galatea Merrythought, and the Herbology Professor, Herbert Beery. Professor Merrythought was a very pleasant lady, and Harry got along with her just fine. She was passionate about her subject and spoke what was on her mind, alright. Within minutes he was arguing with her about the distinction between different types of spells. It was all very fun and good cheer. He was even enjoying himself a little.

Professor Beery, on the other hand, was calm and gentle, and very concerned with Harry’s health. It was like having a mother (well, father, but Beery was just a bit too maternal). He had never been this intimate with a professor before. _Ever._

Harry sipped his pumpkin juice lazily, and scowled petulantly when the said man shoved more mashed potatoes onto his plate. His breakfast had been heavy and his lunch even more so. He didn’t want to eat more hearty food, lest he wakes up a ball of lard tomorrow.

He snuck a piece of chicken to Yao as carefully as he could. He pretended to be scratching an itch as the black snake was hiding in his sleeve. His fingers were nuzzled in response, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle with delight.

“Hogwarts officially starts in a week, Harry. While you have no recollection of your family and past, it seems you have a solid grasp on your magic and magical theory for your age. Can you remember who taught you?”

Harry rubbed his chin in thought. He squinted at his plate and pushed around a few vegetables. They still haven’t gotten him some glasses. He could barely make out a thing on the porcelain utensil.

“I remember a man…” he tensed, images of Mad-eye Moody popping in his head.

“He was cold and isolated; like a light I would never be able to reach. Far superior in strength and knowledge. Stern, and very demanding.”

Harry frowned down at his plate, memories of Moody’s death plaguing him with sudden dark thoughts. He clenched the fork in his hands so tight his knuckles turned white.

“I think he is dead,” he said, his jaw tight.

“You admired him,” Professor Merrythought stated. She looked solemn, her grey eyes downcast. Harry sent her a smile.

“Of course, though I do not remember his name or his face.”

The tension dissolved slowly, and the conversation turned back to normal. Harry glanced at the rows of empty tables that he was used to seeing filled with chattering students. It felt just a little cold, despite the roaring fireplace. The emptiness, it was almost sad.

He turned back to the food, getting himself another serving of treacle tart.

“I’ll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow Harry. The Medi-witch at Hogwarts, Ava, gave me the all clear. Your ankle will be a little sore but she said it’ll be fine. Have a good rest tonight and we’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

Herbert stared at Harry with soft hazel eyes. Weird. Was he trying to comfort him? Why, when he didn’t know who Harry really was? Why, when they had met for only a few hours? He hated it, but he couldn’t help the warmth that spread throughout his body. A smile made its way onto his face.

“I will, Professor Beery.”

They finished the meal in a comfortable silence. Distantly, Harry wondered about monetary problems, but right now, he wasn’t too worried about it. His pouch had a few precious materials that could be sold for a high price. It’ll be okay.

Who was he kidding?! Where was he going to get money from?! The headmaster had talked about enrolling him in the school, but he had no fees! He couldn’t assume that he had the Potter inheritance because there were two heirs if he was correct, and the Black fortune was definitely out of the picture. So, to surmise, he was completely and utterly broke. Ridiculous. Did Dippet expect him to earn his own share of money in a week? Mother of- oh well, he’ll deal with it somehow.

The plates disappeared off the tables. Harry took an apple from a fruit basket and stuffed it into his pocket. He’ll save it for later.

After saying goodbyes to the professors, he was led to the Hufflepuff staff living quarters. Professor Beery showed him his room, which was a pretty decent size, and was similar in design and ambience to a homely cottage. It had its own toilet, and a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff waved at him happily from the wall opposite the bed.

“Do you need any assistance, Harry?” Professor Beery grinned warmly.

Harry shook his head. He needed some time to himself.

“Okay then, there’s some spare robes in the closet and your pyjamas are on the bed. Have a shower if you want. Sleep tight.”

The door slammed shut. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

_‘Come out Yao, he’s gone.’_

The snake climbed out of his clothes and onto the floor. He flicked his tongue at Harry in a gesture of greeting, and slithered onto the bed.

_‘Har-ri, I want a harder rock to sleep on. This one is too soft.’_

Harry looked around the room for anything he could transfigure into a rock. He found a bar of soap in one of the cabinets that surely wouldn’t be missed and tapped it lightly with his ratty old wand. He cast a warming spell on the soap-turned-rock as well, and placed it on the study table.

_‘Here you go. Yao, what do you think of these wizards and witches?’_

Yao hissed in pleasure as he settled onto his new resting place. He looked at Harry with his cloudy seafoam eyes and tilted his head.

_‘That two-legger who led you here, the one that looks like a field mouse, he is strange. He smells different from what he looks like. I would be wary of him if I were you, Har-ri.’_

Professor Beery? Hm, it did seem he was getting too friendly with him, but he didn’t sense any ill intent. He’ll watch out for him though.

_‘Is that so? I will observe him closely then. What about that lady who kept on glaring at me at dinner?’_

Harry lightly stroked Yao’s head. He sat down in the chair and closed his eyes. It had been such a long day, and he still didn’t know half the things he needed to know.

_‘She is a dull person. I did not pay attention to her.’_

 Harry let out a chortle. Professor Babbling, or Bathsheda, had been glowering at him throughout the entirety of the meal. She was adamant about his status as a spy and would lash out at anyone who tried to talk to her. It was kind of funny. She was a very stubborn woman, that’s for sure.

_‘I talked briefly with Dippet. You know, the man with the golden spectacles?’_

_‘Yes,’_ Yao prompted.

_‘He said that it is nineteen-forty-two if you are curious. I can’t say I was surprised.’_

Harry covered his mouth with a hand when he yawned.

_‘Har-ri, you are tired. You need to sleep.’_

The black-haired boy sighed. There were a lot of stray thoughts he needed to organise. He didn’t know how old he was exactly, he didn’t know how he was going to pay for anything, and he didn’t know why the Headmaster had been so eager in Harry’s enrolment into Hogwarts.

He put on his pyjamas and fell onto the bed in an exhausted heap. He’ll shower tomorrow morning, and then write down a list of the things he really needed to do. The bed was soft, like Yao said, and the pillows were practically clouds. Harry turned off the lights with a muttered spell, hissed a soft goodnight to Yao, and threw the covers of the bed onto his body. The emblem the Wise-one give him glowed in the darkness of the room and soothed him gently with its soft glow.

Fuck it, he was going to sleep. Too much thinking for one day was bound to drive him crazy.

-=-

Bargok watched in awe as the door to the Noise-room started shimmering and rippling with silver light. He winced at the loud screeching noises coming from inside and wiped his eyes from the remnants of sleep. Getting off his chair, he walked to the middle of the vast door.

Letters bled into life on the door, and the intricate woven patterns carved into the gold twisted and turned until four sentences blinked in his face boldly.

_“Open, seeketh and thee shalt find…”_

_“Greatest treasures beyond thy mind.”_

_“For timeth hast cometh to reveal the truth.”_

_“And thy heart’s desire shalt guide thee through.”_

Bargok read the words, again and again, the meaning behind them swimming in his head.

He suddenly felt very, very tired.

He’ll need to tell the Kin-

Darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sporadic updates are my forte. Please leave a kudo and a review if you enjoyed. It will be greatly appreciated. I realise the introduction of so many new characters may be confusing, and there may be many plotholes. Constructive criticism is welcome. (The French may also be terribly wrong as well. I have just started learning it at school, so please excuse my ignorance.)


	3. Goblin troubles

“Well, go on,” the mouth like opening at the top of the mirror said, “don’t just stand there gaping at yourself, tidy up your horrendous hair!”

“Oh, don’t be so harsh on the kid, his hair looks fine.” The small hand mirror chimed in mildly.

Harry looked at the two mirrors incredulously. He jerkily grabbed his clothes off the sink and put them on quickly, cautious eyes never leaving the amber gems blinking at him from above. 

“Stupid brats, always so careful around poor old me, it’s not like I’m going to peek or anything,” he heard the bathroom mirror mumble to itself when it thought he wasn’t listening.

Sighing, Harry brushed away a lock of wet hair out of his face. He stared at his reflection, and it seemed to glare back defiantly with narrowed green eyes. His face was _way_ too fucking young! He had realised that he must have looked like a teenager for him to be excepted so seamlessly as a possible student of Hogwarts, but he didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect a fresh-faced child with a healthy complexion and long limbs. He didn’t expect the innocence, the strangeness of a familiar face, the youthfulness and the disappearance of his carefully groomed beard. It felt uncomfortable. His body was not his.

He recoiled slightly in disgust and took a step back, forcing himself to look away. (He was really put out by his missing beard by the way. It was something that freaked out his colleagues, and he had always enjoyed their shocked expressions at the things he made it do. Ah, the look on Hermione’s face when he had charmed his beard to sing.)

“Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never seen talking mirrors before. Please don’t take it too personally.” Harry apologised after taking a stabilising breath. Does this young body mean having to go through puberty again?! He shuddered at the thought.

He felt Yao slither up onto his leg, and then onto his torso, where he hid underneath his shirt. Harry placed a calming hand on the shivering snake and returned his attention to the haughty bathroom mirror for the time being. It was wooden, which fitted with the cottage aesthetic that the Hufflepuff founder had been going for, evident by his room and its warm atmosphere. Two glowing orange eyes stared at him disdainfully, and intricate patterns of lazy badgers and soaring eagles danced on its round frame impishly.

“Hmph, I accept your apology. I am one of a kind, and you do seem very ignorant and stupid after all. Go on then, finish combing your hair.” It said, its face contorting into a tight-lipped frown.

Rolling his eyes, Harry dried his hair off with a spell and brushed his teeth. Wow, three guesses for who this mirror reminded him of. Congrats, you got it right! Draco Malfoy, the Prat-Whom-He-Became-Friends-with-out-of-Necessity.

Harry tugged at a curl that stuck obstinately in the air. Well, he really couldn’t do anything about his bird nest of a hairstyle anyway. Hair gels, curses, charms, potions and even the occasional dark ritual or two couldn’t make his hair tame. Another shitty component of the delightful Potter luck, unfortunately. It was like his hair had a mind of its own, (would he really be surprised if it did?).

“By Golly! You’re leaving with your hair like that?” The mirror shouted when Harry placed the brush down and started heading towards the door.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the scandalised look it was shooting him and shrugged. How amusing. Why had he never heard of a mirror such as this one before? Actually, it was probably because he had no reason to ask about a _bloody talking mirrors_ to a _Hufflepuff_ , let alone _anyone else_.

“Do you guys have names?” Harry queried instead of responding to the mirror’s question.

It seemed to scowl in annoyance before mumbling a barely heard word. The hand mirror on the sink chortled good-naturedly at his friend’s sulky attitude.

“Sorry? Could you repeat that?” Harry looked at the sullen mirror in satisfaction, taking pleasure in making it squirm underneath his watchful eye.

The mirror’s topaz eyes shifted nervously and avoided Harry’s intense gaze. The lazy badgers etched on its surface started skipping, and the eagles began pirouetting mid-flight. Harry chuckled at the animated animals’ antics, though he did not forget to drill the mirror with a stare so harsh it made even the most battle-hardened soldiers shit their pants. After a moment of stifling silence, the mirror blurted out its name hurriedly in a fit of mortification.

“Annie! My name is Annie! And I know what you are thinking – despite the name, I am a he! Now stop staring at me like that, you pesky boy!”

The other mirror smiled at Harry in wonder. It wiggled its handle and managed to haul itself upright until it was leaning on one of the taps.

“Hi, I’m Margaret. Our Mistress was strange I suppose; she gave us feminine names while giving our female counterparts masculine names. She did have a weird sense of humour now that I think about it.”

Harry nodded his head in understanding and grinned roguishly at the embarrassed looking mirrors. He mockingly bowed to Annie and Margaret, addressing them with a snobbish voice and an upturned nose, imitating Annie’s arrogant tones as closely as he could. It wasn’t hard, he just had to mimic the way Draco talked and pretended like he was smelling something foul.

“My name is Harry Potter. I’ll see you later Annie, Margaret. It was nice meeting you. See ya.”

“How disrespectful!” Annie spluttered at Harry’s retreating form.

“Wait a minute, you still haven’t done anything about your hair, you careless child!”

Ringing laughter was all Annie heard before Harry disappeared from the bathroom.

Annie muttered ceaselessly to himself when the insolent boy left and started rearranging the flowers that suddenly bloomed onto his wooden surface beside the playing animals. It wasn’t going to be so quiet and calm anymore, he thought to himself.

But then again, it wouldn’t be so lonely as well.

“Oh Margaret, what am I going to do?” he bemoaned to the silver hand mirror on the sink in a resigned manner.

Margaret let out a deep, rumbling laughter and winked playfully at Annie.

“It’s fine my friend,” he said, “don’t you feel livelier with him around? It’ll be a change of scenery, everything’s been so stagnant since Mistress has been gone.”

Annie blinked slowly in agreement.

“I suppose it’ll be fun dressing up someone again.” He lamented softly.

Margaret smiled knowingly.

-=-

Harry kneeled beside the bed and stroked Yao’s head gently, the large black snake shivering uncontrollably on top of the covers. He watched the snake writhe on the bed frenziedly, and tried to soothe him by sending magic through the mark on his palm into the snake.

 _‘Yao,’_ he hissed in worry, _‘Yao, what’s the problem?’_

 _‘Har-ri,’_ Yao rasped out, his voice dripping with unbearable pain.

_‘Har-ri, Brother warned me of this, he said that once I leave the cave I will be bound to my master.’_

A strangled sound was forced out of the snake’s jaws. Harry pushed more of his magic to him. He mumbled soothing words to Yao softly and thought as hard as he could to come up with a solution.

_‘What do I have to do Yao? What is going to happen to you?’_

Yao didn't answer. Instead, Yao stopped flailing around and slumped limply into the mattress, his body boneless and relaxed. Looking down at his hand, the Wise-one’s mark blazed brilliantly white for a second before Yao was sliding off the bed, looking completely fine and dandy now. What in the name of Morgana’s saggy tits.

_‘Don’t worry Har-ri. It is a common initiation process in my clan. My clan’s magic was making sure I was fit to be your companion. It cleansed me of any wounds and illnesses. To conclude, I am your familiar now.’_

Harry blinked owlishly. Well, that hadn’t taken very long. It had been years before Hedwig officially claimed him as her master, and the kneazle kitten that he had kept had only bonded with him when it matured and became an adult. It was rare, very rare, for a wizard to connect with a familiar in the span of two days. Though not unheard of, because he recalled distinctly that Draco had bonded with one of his albino peacocks in the first hour of the purchase. 

 _‘What?’_ He asked in confusion. _‘What will happen now?’_

_‘Sorry Har-ri, I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the Wise-one for more concrete answers. Though I suppose nothing will change. I am still Yaocoatl as you are still Har-ri. I will just be more aware of my duties to you, as your protector.’_

_‘Sorry for scaring you,’_ Yao hissed out in a surprisingly small voice.

Harry stared at the bashful expression on the snake’s face for a second before bursting out in laughter. He clutched at his aching sides and rubbed his sore cheeks. It was so endearing! How incredibly reticent, for an animal that is so dangerous, Harry still couldn’t get over how strange Yao’s personality was. But then again, he was a snake, and Harry was a human, the differences were to be expected.

 _‘Don’t worry, don’t worry, go on then, don’t you need to hunt?_ ’ Harry managed to choke out through his chuckles.

_‘Thank you Har-ri, I will return to the big hall after I finish.’_

Yao hissed out a few words of farewell before slinking off into the shadows. Harry watched as he vanished, and plopped down onto the cushioned chair with a stupid grin on his face. He idly outlined the shape of his scar over his fringe with his index finger and gazed at the ceiling in silent contemplation. Should he? He wondered why he was hesitating, it had seemed to be a task of utmost importance that he needed to complete. Now that Yao was gone, he could do this. He had woken up early for this purpose. He needed the privacy that was required for an occlumency session, and now he had it, but it seemed like he didn’t want to use it.

It would do him good, to prepare for the day’s events by meditating a little. Yesterday had gone by with much confusion, and he would not let today be a reflection of the inactivity he displayed previously. _But_ , a small voice in the back of his brain whispered, _do you really want to see the damage?_

Harry closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

Like always, he arrived in a field of white. It was an unnatural man-made white, nothing like the soft colour of clouds, or the gleaming silver of the moon, but rather like peeling hospital walls and immaculate picket fences. It was a white he hated because even till this day it reminded him of the Dursleys – but it was what it was.

He knelt down and placed a hand on the stiff ground.

It was easier for him to imagine his occlumency shields as towering domes encasing a rare treasure, but he found that this technique was not impenetrable. In fact, if it was up to him to find a way to access the ‘treasure’ inside a dome, he would just dig. Dig and conquer. So he made something else. A blank space. People could get into his mind, sure, but what was the point if nothing was in it? What was the use of defences when you had nothing to guard? And that was what inspired this unnervingly clean expanse. An abode where nothing ever existed and nothing could be found unless he wanted them to.

But then, where was he to keep his memories? His identity and his personality?

He had thought about using the Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries as a floor plan. And then he considered a library, and furthermore, Hogwarts. But those things were predictable, as most occlumens based their mind on those sort of places. Places where there was a magnitude of the same, identical thing.

If that was the case, then he would just have to make his ‘storage unit’ an environment where there were so many different things that any intruder will never make sense of anything. He would create a forest where every leaf was a memory, and every creature a secret. (It was a pretty stupid idea at first until Moody had helped him.) For what was a tree inside a forest? Nobody – if they even could make it there in the first place – would be able to find the memory that they sought. They would be bombarded with meaningless thoughts instead.

There were a few concerning cracks in the fields of white in Harry's mind. Harry smoothed them over with his magic and watched as his energy slowly mended the holes and bumps. Strange. There wasn’t anything that was particularly out of place, he had been expecting something serious. Endless stories of time travellers who went insane because of their inability to comprehend the concept of time had been told by many, and most of them had been terrifying. Harry hoped to Merlin that none of those things would happen to him. Because if it did, he probably wouldn’t be able to fix it. Unfortunately, he was no expert on mind arts. He only knew enough about it to qualify for an Auror.

A loud sound from outside his mind jarred himself off of any further contemplations. He sighed and looked back at the planes of white one more time before dissipating into nothingness.

Harry’s eyes snapped open, and for a second he stared unfocused at the potted plant on his desk. The knocking on his door grew louder. Standing up, he met the honey coloured gaze of Helga Hufflepuff’s portrait while he was getting his coat. She smiled and waved at him jovially, her soft features glowing in the dancing lights of the morning sun. For a second, Harry thought he saw a flash of twinkling blue in her eyes, but then dismissed it as a trick of his mind when they returned to normal. Harry waved back tentatively.

“Coming!” He yelled when the knocking on his door grew incessantly louder.

The bland grey coat he threw on was slightly too large, and Harry winced when he had to roll the sleeves up. He fiddled with the buttons and straightened his shirt, before placing his worn pouch inside one of the front pockets. With one last glance at the waving portrait, he answered the door and greeted Professor Beery.

“Good morning Harry. Did you rest well?” The tall professor said, his brown eyes alight and dancing with excitement.

Harry smiled pleasantly and nodded in affirmation as the man escorted him down to the dining hall, even as he groaned eternally at his Professor Beery's overbearing happiness this early in the morning. His eyes raked across the polished suits of armour that bowed slightly to him and followed the wispy figure of Peeves, who was busy making obscene comments and rude gestures at the paintings on the walls.

“Oh don’t worry about Peeves, he’s just Hogwarts resident poltergeist. He is quite overwhelming at times, but everyone gets used to it.” Professor Beery held Harry's left shoulder reassuringly, but all the black haired teenager could see were yelling portraits and a ghost rushing them who was sobbing into her hands hysterically. Harry nodded uncertainly.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open with a loud bang when they arrived. It was nostalgic, Harry mused as he marvelled at the transparent ceiling that revealed the endless blue sky, it reminded him of first year when Hermione had gone on and on about the enchanted ceiling with excitement and awe etched onto her freckled face. Harry greeted the house elf who was skulking around in a corner, and was met with wide eyes and a terrified squeak before it vanished with a loud crack. 

“He _is_ very entertaining,” Harry said as they settled down onto the dining table.

Plates of food appeared on the table gradually as more professors slowly trickled in, until the entirety of the table was covered with English muffins, bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, porridge, and little jars of jam and cream. The teacher’s started their usual chatter as they commenced eating, and Harry occasionally put in his two cents into some of the more interesting conversations.

“Harry, would you mind passing the salt? Oh! – how was the book I gave to you yesterday?”

Professor Binns had given him a copy of ‘Hogwarts: A History’ to read as some light night reading material. He had already scoured through it endless amounts of times as a child though, so he clearly remembered every little detail about the old castle. It had been one of the few books he still regularly read as an adult.

“It was a very interesting and incredible read, Professor Binns. Thank you for lending it to me. I especially liked the part about the past Headmasters.”

He passed the salt and watched in amusement as a giggling Peeves swooped in and snatched it away from Professor Binns’ waiting hands. The poltergeist cackled, and with a snap of his fingers, made all the chairs in the hall start to dance.

“Peeves! You utterly despicable-!” Professor Binns stopped mid-sentence and gave a startled yelp, groaning in defeat when his chair flew out from underneath him and left him sprawled out on the floor painfully.

“Turn it back right now Peeves you bloody nonce!” Professor Babbling boomed, her face turning purple in mortification as she tried desperately to stay in her chair.

Peeves giggled and flew over the struggling humans lazily. He tipped his transparent hat at them and flew out of the room with a loud snicker. How amusing, the bunch of idiotic humans. He hoped this time someone would finally get fatally injured.

“Now, now, everyone. Calm down, I'm sure we can fix this,” Dumbledore smiled genially at a chair that galloped close by him and whacked him on the shin. He winced, but managed to maintain his composed exterior.

“What in the world is going on-”

“Oh my lord! Do something Dumbledore, you're the most capable of the lot!”

As Headmaster Dippet and Ogg ran into the room in a hurry, Harry snorted into his piece of toast. Wow, what a way to feel welcomed. Peeves blew him a teasing kiss as he entered the hall again, and Harry pretended to catch it with his right hand. This caused the poltergeist to cackle menacingly, and when he disappeared through the walls at Headmaster Dippet's angry scowl, he sent Harry a jaunty wave of farewell.

Inevitably, the tables were cleared and the chairs were charmed back to normal with a wave from Dumbledore's wand. Harry was one of the few who managed to have kept an immaculate appearance after the whole ordeal, while Professor Beery was able to escape with a torn cloak and a messy do. They quickly hurried away from the scene of the crime, lest they are roped into cleaning up the huge mess that was left after the stampede of chairs.

“Well, that was certainly a way to start a morning, wasn’t it?” Professor Beery exclaimed cheerfully.

The mousy haired man stopped in front of the fireplace inside his office. He took a handful of Floo-powder and was about to throw it into the fireplace when he paused and eyed Harry in realisation.

“Do you remember how to use Floo networks, Harry?” He asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.

“I suppose I do,” Harry answered. He looked at the shimmering pile of dust and winced when he felt phantom pains in his leg from an unfortunate accident. 

“Well, I'll just give you a run down of the basics then. Just throw this powder into the hearth and yell out the destination, in this case; Diagon Alley. Make sure to keep your elbows close to your body and pronounce the word properly otherwise you may end up somewhere completely different.” Professor Beery warned in his teaching voice.

Harry nodded in understanding. He grabbed a fistful of the shimmery powder and watched in interest as the man stepped into the fireplace and disappeared with a flare of brilliant green flames. Tensing his shoulders, Harry threw the powder into the fireplace and watched as the flames licked the air like a lazy cat grooming itself. It was graceful and mesmerising, and with a wistful grin, Harry stepped into the hungry flames.

“Diagon Alley!” He called out before he was transported in a flurry of robes and messy hair.

He landed on the cobblestone pathway and nearly stumbled if it weren’t for the steady hand of Professor Beery helping him regain his balance. He was always horrible at using magical methods of transportation. It was a miracle that Moody had scared him into not falling flat on his face every time he took the Floo.

 _‘Clumsy boy,’_ he heard Yao hiss quietly. Harry scoffed and flicked the snake on his head in ire.

“This,” Professor Beery threw his hands up in the air in a reverent manner, “is Diagon Alley, the centre of Wizarding London. I hope you enjoy your trip here.”

Harry stood still for a few moments. It was noisy. He remembered it being quieter. It was wrong, _wrong_ , _**wrong**_. He wasn't in the right place- he wanted to scratch his skin, he wanted to bleed. It wasn't real, he felt his throat closing up, his eyesight was becoming blurry, he wanted to keel over, he _needed_ to-

Disgusting, he thought to himself. Harry, get yourself together, you bloody idiot. Pathetic. Did you go through all that training to break down at such a mundane moment like this? 

He took a deep breath. Calm. Calm. Calm. 

And it was alright again. Everything would be alright. He'll go back to his time. He'll find a way.

Professor Beery noticed the out of place silence from the black haired boy. He scanned him over for any injuries but was instead surprised to find a solemn air around him. 

“Harry,” he said gently.

“Harry, if you don’t want to be here today, we can come here another ti-”

“No, it’s fine Professor Beery, I’m fine.”

Harry smiled smoothly and shook himself from any remaining sentiments. The man looked at him concerned, but didn’t question him any further.

“Sorry for interrupting you, Professor. I was just overcome by a sudden bout of nostalgia. Perhaps I am remembering something.”

“It's quite alright Harry, take all the time you want. Our first stop is Gringotts. If you remember most things about magic, perhaps you will remember that Gringotts is the bank for wizards. Does that ring a bell?”

“Of course,” he surveyed the familiar streets and shops in concealed awe, his face lighting up at the bookstore. Hopefully, he’ll be able to look around later, if he was allowed to buy any other books apart from the ones required in the Hogwarts curriculum. It had been such a long time since he'd seen any of these shops in their former glory.

They arrived at the imposing white building, the warning words carved onto the entrance serving as a bleak reminder of the Goblin’s ruthlessness. Engraved on the stone plaque outside the edifice was the Gringotts seal, with the regal-looking Latin words flowing on the marble stone.

_Fortius Quo Fidelis._

Strength through loyalty.

A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. The goblins were always loyal, however cunning they may be. It was perhaps the only thing that made them co-operate with Harry during the war, and it was the one thing that never changed. Harry spotted the goblin guards garbed in crimson and gold and bowed to them respectfully. They grinned back with sharp teeth and beady black eyes like the backs of beetles and bowed in turn as they entered through the bronze gates.

Professor Beery hurriedly pulled Harry away from a crowd of wizards and witches that suddenly swarmed the building, and led him to a goblin with a golden monocle who was scribbling onto a roll of parchment that draped over the podium and seemed to go on forever.

“Good morning Nurnak, may I request an inheritance test for this young lad over here? And after that, we’ll need to go to the Hogwarts Vault.”

“The key, Mr Beery?”

Professor Beery held out a long silver key on a worn-out rope. He handed it over to the goblin, who after inspecting it for a few moments, rattled out a string of gobbledegook to a nearby guard. He handed it back to Professor Beery after a particularly nasty sneer at the other goblin.

“Everything seems to be in order,” the goblin peered over his monocle at Harry, observing him like you would an insect, “what might your name be Sir?”

The green-eyed boy winced. “Harry Potter.” He responded.

Apart from a second of scepticism, there wasn’t much of a reaction. Instead, the Goblin hummed noncommittedly and shuffled through his drawers.

“We’ll see about that,” he muttered underneath his breath dryly.

 The goblin shot Professor Beery one last wicked look, before gesturing for the guards to escort them down one of the hallways.

“Follow the guard gentlemen, and you’ll be taken to one of the ritual rooms. After that, someone will guide you to the Hogwarts vault. Hurry along then.”

As Harry walked past the goblin, he leaned in and whispered discreetly to the wizened goblin that looked like a sunbathing raisin, “Send King Gruknar my regards.”

With a smirk and a polite tip of his head, Harry was gone, leaving a flabbergasted goblin staring after him. No-one outside of the goblin nation knew of the King’s name. Anyone who dares to utter the King’s true name who was not recognised to be part of the King’s reign would immediately be struck down by Gringotts’ magic. Strange, very strange. Also very dangerous.

The goblin frowned. He needed to report this. After the incidents with the Noise room, any potential threat would need to be eliminated. They were already lacking staffing and desperately trying to create the illusion of their usual professionalism, and now this?

He punched a few buttons on his desk and watched as a ruby set into the mahogany desk started glowing.

“If this is a false report again, I will slaughter whoever it is that contacted me. Speak!”

“Apologies for interrupting your peace, your highness, it is I, Ulkit. A human who knew and spoke of your name without being harmed by the wards is present inside Gringotts currently. I fear this may be linked to the incidents regarding the Noise room. Please let me investigate this.”

There was an unnerving silence before the King spoke in a deceptively calm voice.

“Ulkit, where is this human now?”

“I have sent him to ritual room fifty-six, your grace.”

“Take me to him immediately!”

Ulkit bowed. The ruby flared angrily before dimming and becoming its normal translucent colour.

He sighed. That had been terrifying. He hoped to God that doing this was not a blunder on his part otherwise his family would be cursed for three generations.

-=-

“Sorry Sir, but I will have to ask you to step outside as you are not the guardian of this child and therefore not privy to the details of his inheritance.”

Professor Beery exhaled in worry, but stood up and gave Harry a reassuring pat on the back.

“It won’t take long, don’t worry,” the goblin confirmed.

After Professor Beery stepped outside, the goblin turned his searching gaze onto Harry. There was a strange expression on his face, and he looked like he was having an internal battle with himself. Harry observed the goblin inquisitively. The creature’s bony and wrinkled hands were shaking, and suddenly, an ecstatic smile broke out on his wizened face.

“Harry James Potter-Black, sixteen years of age. Born in 1980, July the thirty-first. Mother, Lily Potter nee. Evans – deceased in 1981. Father, James Fleamont Potter – deceased in 1981. Heir of the house of Black. Heir of the House of Potter, and owner of the Vault 22. An honourable friend of the Goblins, time-traveller and the Boy-Who-Lived.”

The goblin spared Harry a piercing glance.

“How interesting,” he murmured. “How very interesting.”

Harry slumped into the chair in defeat. It seemed that even at this time he was still retained his grandiose title of the Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Be-Arsed-to-Die. He closed his eyes in thought for a moment, a million questions racing through his mind. Well, better ask the friendly fucker what his name was first.

“Your name, sir?”

The goblin laughed, an ugly, distorted sort of sound. Like a knife raking against a porcelain plate. It made Harry’s hair stand on end and his teeth clench in annoyance. Was this Aunt Petunia reincarnated?

“I am Ergot, time-traveller. You must have done a great service for us goblins if the King gave you the title of goblin friend. I shall call the King down. There hasn’t been one of your sort for ages.”

One of his sort? What the hell did he mean by that? Was that a compliment or an incredibly subtle insu-

“Ergot! Where is the human who speaks my name?!” A loud commanding voice roared.

In stepped King Gruknar, the descendant of the great goblin King Ragnok, the forger of the famous sword of Gryffindor. King Gruknar had outlived his ancestors by far. When Harry had met him in 2005, he had been at the solid age of three hundred and twenty-one. It had taken lots of money from his vaults, numerous gifts of old books and invaluable jewellery, lots of praise and goading, and the relocation of the sword of Gryffindor for the King to have named him a friend. It was an excruciating process, much like trying to impress a girlfriend. (Except this one was a lot wrinklier and uglier than your average girl).

His magnificent scarlet robes drifted behind him gracefully as he strode in, and Harry immediately felt the familiar coldness that seeped into the room whenever Gruknar was present. Harry could see Professor Beery looking confused and scared out of the corner of his eyes. Really, it hadn't been his intention to cause this big of a fuss. He took a deep breath and turned to meet the gaze of Gruknar’s fearsome stormy grey eyes.

“Hello, Gruknar, do you remember me?” Harry said in his extremely accented and broken gobbledegook. He plastered on his best serene smile and hoped to god that the King, being the all-knowing self as he was, would remember him.

Gruknar's eyes widened, and he stared at the green-eyed boy in shock. Then an apprehensive look crossed the King’s face, and he swivelled around to address the rest of the occupants of the room.

“Leave. I will speak to him privately.”

When no one ventured to move, the King glared at them and snapped irritably at the stupefied audience.

“NOW!”

They scurried out of the room like dogs with their tails behind their backs. The room was left in awkward silence once more.

“So…”

Harry stared at Gruknar, and Gruknar stared back. The King’s impassive gaze made Harry want to squirm in his seat, but with practised ease, Harry squashed the feeling and stared back as blankly as possible. Finally, after five minutes or so, there was an inaudible sigh from the Goblin King and a shift in his line of vision. Harry felt the triumph engulf his entire being before letting a pleased grin grace his face.

“Why are you here in this time, Harry?” Gruknar asked, his expression almost resigned.

“You know who I am?” Harry quipped, his green eyes filled with amazement.

“Of course, how could anyone forget you?” The King said, almost ruefully.

Harry was flattered, he admitted, (he was also a bit offended at the tone), but it was still weird that the King remembered him. He had spoken Gruknar’s name carelessly because he felt that it would help him in future events, but he really didn’t expect to be roped into this mess. Poor Professor Beery, he must be regretting bringing Harry to Diagon Alley.

“Thanks, Gruknar, wow, I didn't know you felt that way for me. Anyway, to get to the point, a portkey malfunctioned, and I suspect that my broken time-turner may have something to do with this situation. But no, seriously, how the fuck do you remember me.”

“Language,” Gruknar said by reflex. He then crossed his arms and scowled at Harry threateningly.

“It would seem that goblin magic doesn’t particularly care about the way human magic works. Our brains, as you would have guessed already, is superior to that of your average wizard or witch. We are able to live longer and have greater gifts and talents for certain areas of magic. That is why, Harry, if you are still listening, I can remember everything that has ever happened in my life. Past, present, future. It does not matter to me.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow.

“And why have I never heard of this before?”

The King scoffed. He sat down in Ergot’s plush chair and managed to make slouching comfortably look elegant.

“Why, because you did not ask of course.”

“Wow, that’s great buddy. Absolutely great. You know, I thought I was completely screwed, but thank god you were able to conveniently remember me. Thank god.”

“What makes you think I’ll help you?” Gruknar sneered. “You haven’t assisted me or the goblin nation in this time period, after all, it would make no sense of me to go out of my way to aid an idiot who touched a broken portkey and somehow damaged his time-turner.”

Harry gaped at Gruknar, his heart constricting at the hurtful words. _Ouch._ He looked away and covered his eyes with sadness and regret.

“I suppose the sword of Gryffindor will have to stay forever out of the grasp of their original creators.”

The King shot up from his seat and narrowed his eyes at the mourning Harry.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed, his grey eyes turning black in anger.

“And I guess Ravenclaw’s diadem can be lost forever, it’s not like I have any reason to keep it.”

Harry continued, goaded on by the hilarious looks of rage the Gruknar was spearing him with.

“Ah, Hufflepuff’s cup, Slytherin’s locket,” by now Harry’s voice had dropped to a low menacing whisper, “beautiful treasures, all gone, because a friend couldn’t help another friend in need.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll bloody help you, you blasted boy! I swear, every time! Every bloody time I get roped into some stupid deal that, for some reason, I always fall for even when I know it’s just a scam!”

The King settled down in his seat once again, his signature scowl now blasting him with waves of killing intent. Harry snorted and shrugged, wow, Gruknar really was an idiot. Even in the past, he still believed the senseless shit Harry spouted. The Goblin King was the perfect proof that time doesn’t make you wiser, it just makes you more senile.

“Well, dear King, do you by any chance know why my blood showed that I am currently sixteen years old?"

Gruknar stared at him incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe how moronic the questions were.

“Why would I know that? I’m not some omniscient being, who do you think I am?”

By the hair on Merlin’s balls, this bastard was the epitome of exasperating. What about the whole dramatic speech he had made earlier? The one about his ‘superior intellect’? Oh well, he’ll leave the poor dunce alone.

“Okay then. You should at least know about the Potter and Black inheritances right? Weren’t my grandparents from this time period? And how would the Black inheritance be carried over into this time? I mean sure, I get how my blood will be the same, but it wasn’t like I was directly related to the Blacks right?”

Gruknar stayed silent.

“Right?!”

Gruknar smirked and raised a hairless eyebrow condescendingly towards Harry.

“My, my, who’s the pig who doesn’t know a single thing about blood magics or their bloodline? Well, Harry dear, didn’t you find out that your grandfather’s brother married a Black? Dorea Black, to be exact. That means you are related by blood, even if only by a little. However, that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. The Blacks usually choose their next lord based on who was most powerful, which means you might get a chance at claiming the Black lordship if you appeal it via conquest. But I suppose this is too much for your little pea brain to wrap around.”

The King sniffed scornfully at Harry.

“Vault 22 should help you get by for the time being. It’s the vault granted to a valued ally of the goblins. But you haven’t really done anything to earn it. I suppose I should revoke your claim on it.”

Harry smiled politely, but inside he was cringing. If he didn’t have the vault, he was dead.

“I’ll grant you one favour, King Gruknar. I’ll do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t kill me.” Harry wagered. God, he hoped it wouldn’t be capturing dragons again. That had been a pain in the ass.

“Five favours.” The King smiled sharply.

“Two.”

"Four favours." Gruknar sniped.

"Three."

“Alright, three favours for my guidance, which I am paying the steeper price of, if you wanted to know, with me wasting my precious time on you and everything.”

“No, I didn’t want to know. Shut your gob.”

“I should just cut your head off and feed it to a dragon, with how impudent you’re being.”

“No really, shut your gob. Is there anything else you wanted to ask or am I free to go, _your grace_?”

Gruknar scowled even heavier at the jab at his royalty. He stewed in his righteous anger for a moment, before he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Why not just dump the whole fiasco with the Noise room into Harry's eager hands? He was a fairly powerful wizard if his future-self was correct, and he did go through with all his promises if his future-self was correct. This was a really good day, he chucked to himself snidely, a really good day indeed.

“Yes, there is something I wanted to ask actually. I have a little problem with my underground city, and I’ll need your help with it. Come back tomorrow and solve it, and that’ll be one of your favours gone.”

Harry shrugged. A little problem? Sure, he can do it, it’ll probably be some sort of menial task. (Oh how wrong he was. How fucking wrong, he was.)

“Very good. I’ll send a guard to escort you to Vault 22 then. Have fun, there’s a lot of useless things in there. Meet me at six, tomorrow in our usual room. _Finally, farewell_.”

Harry waved cheerfully at the King as he departed.

“Thank Gringotts I’m leaving that nutter,” he thought he heard Gruknar murmur under his breath.

The King glared at the nearest person he could see, which so happened to be a poor guard.

“Take him to Vault 22. Give him everything he asks for. _Just don’t let him bother me again._ ” The King ordered as he stared down the cowering goblin.

Shakily, the guard bowed so deep his head swept the ground and choked a ‘yes, your highness’ out.

With a satisfied nod, Gruknar gave one last look at Harry before striding out of the room, the hilt of his sword glinting like the teeth of a feral wolf in the light.

Professor Beery rushed into the room and started checking Harry for any wounds. He kept on fretting, even when Harry insisted he was okay.

“What was all that about?! Why did that goblin take you aside?”

Harry chuckled nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry, he just wanted to talk to me. By the way, am I allowed to come tomorrow as well?” Harry peered up at the Herbology Professor through his fringe.

“Absolutely not!” Professor Beery shouted adamantly.

“Oh, don’t be so frightened Professor Beery, see, I’ve got all my Hogwart’s tuition sorted, it was a miracle coming here. If I hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have had any money to buy anything, and then I wouldn’t have been able to go to Hogwarts.”

Professor Beery ruffled Harry’s hair, sighing in defeat. His eyes softened and he combed through the remaining hair that he had with his hand tiredly.

“There is money specifically in the Hogwarts vault for children like you who are not able to pay for the funds. It would not have mattered, Harry. And, if we were lacking financially, I would have pulled some money out from my vault. You didn’t need to worry; it would have been fine.”

Harry smiled. He thanked the kind professor and ordered for the goblin guard to shovel more money into his bag.

“If that is the case, then I know I’ll love my stay at Hogwarts. It seems like a place where all remarkable people are drawn to. A sanctuary, you could say.”

Professor Beery nodded in agreement. He placed a guiding hand on Harry’s shoulder and steered him to the entrance.

“To Flourish and Blotts we go! Knowledge is power after all, and I also saw you eyeing the shop when we were going to Gringotts. Come on now, don't get lost!”

As Harry and Professor Beery exited the Wizarding Bank, they weren’t quite aware of a pair of murky brown eyes following their every move with interest. An intrigued expression crossed the handsome face of a young Tom Riddle briefly before it was replaced by smug satisfaction. And as he was pulled away by Abraxas, he swore he could see a flash of emerald green and a very peculiar looking scar in the shape of the Sowilo Rune on the other boy’s forehead. The symbol for the sun, unbearably bright in the sky.

A dark smirk curled around his lips. _Harry,_ was it?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. This is my first time writing on any platform. If you can review and leave a kudo it would be much appreciated.


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